


The World to Unwind

by saisei



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, happy valentine's day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-22 10:56:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22714942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saisei/pseuds/saisei
Summary: Ardyn turns Prompto against Noct, and after Gralea it's up to Gladio and Ignis to help Prompto remember who he is and what matters to him.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 10
Kudos: 52
Collections: FFXV Book Club Monthly Sprint Prompts, Fics from the Basement, Promnis Valentines 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _I've got a mountain to climb before I get over this hill  
>  I've got the world to unwind before I ever sit still  
> I've got a hard row to hoe before my seed is sown  
> I've got a long way to get before I get back home_  
> (Long Way to Get, Bob Schneider)

When Prompto's released from Ardyn's torture rack, the first thing he does after the feeling in his arms comes back is try to strangle Noct. Gladio restrains him; he might be fucked in the head, but he's still squishy little Prompto.

"I'm not one of you," he says when Ignis interrogates him. "I never was."

The barcode tattoo on his arm is so old it's starting to fade. Gladio has to raise the possibility that this isn't Prompto, but Noct disagrees.

"We'll see if he can use my Armiger," Noct says. "Once we get it back online." Gladio can't help making a face at that. If this is some magicked-up puppet of Ardyn's, they can just kill him and move on. Logistically, trying to protect all of them – including Prompto – from someone Ardyn's brainwashed while fighting their way through daemons and deranged MTs is going to suck. But just as he feared, Noct continues speaking with steel in his voice: "He's coming with us."

"Noct..." Ignis starts. He's using his appeasement voice, but as Advisor he has the right to question his King's dumbass ideas. Gladio'd give him an encouraging nod if Ignis could see it.

"He'd probably be safe in these cells," Gladio suggests. "For a while."

Noct's shoulders go back just a fraction as he looks up to meet Gladio's eyes. Any other time Gladio would be pleased that his King is giving the orders and wearing the ring.

"He comes with us," Noct repeats, and that's that.

As they try to sneak through the corridors, Prompto struggles and kicks and refuses to listen to logic: he's just as likely to be killed by the threats here, so he might as well team up with them, even if he thinks they're evil. Or whatever lie has been programmed into him.

But whenever he's released, Prompto invariably goes straight for Noct. This is doubly bad because Gladio only lets him go when he needs to fight, and then they all need to keep an eye on both the enemy and Prompto. Once Prompto has lifted a gun off a fallen MT, the situation goes from irritating to potentially disastrous. Ignis has been struggling without a guide – usually Prompto would be there for him, but that's not happening now – but he still throws himself between Noct and bullets twice before Gladio disarms Prompto.

Ignis says he's fine, but he's glassy-eyed and confused. Gladio makes the call that there's no fucking way they're going to push through to the crystal like this, and they backtrack to the dormitories they'd passed earlier. He barricades the door once they're inside and makes Ignis strip and lie down. Noct wanted Prompto, Noct can babysit him.

Noct cheats by summoning Umbra. Ardyn might have fucked with Prompto's loyalty, but he either didn't know or care about how much the kid loves animals. Noct shows him the tricks Umbra can do, and they get him food and water. Noct takes pictures on his phone of them snuggling.

Gladio patches up the bloody hole just above Ignis' hip but he decides not to risk damaging Ignis permanently by attempting to pry out the bullet wedged in his collarbone. He tells Ignis it requires a proper surgeon, and Ignis nods. They have a shit-ton of potions from the base vending machines, and Gladio holds Ignis down while he applies them. The hole mends, mostly, but leaves a scar; the other wound can't heal, and Ignis' back arches as he writhes in the agony of an incomplete repair. Gladio makes a mental note to check Ignis regularly for bleeding and nerve damage. He's already lost his eyes, losing his dominant arm would pretty much put him out of the running for good.

Gladio wonders if the Ring of the Lucii has the ability to heal, as well as to drain life. If Iggy gets worse, he'll ask. But right now he's doing okay, his breathing harsh but not labored, and he's conscious.

"That's all I can do," he says, pushing Ignis' hair back off his forehead. "Get some sleep or something."

"Sorry," Prompto says. He doesn't sound that much like he cares; it's the kind of casual apology you'd give to someone you'd bumped in the hall.

Ignis turns his head to give him a faint smile anyway. "Please don't worry on my behalf." He takes a breath and adds, "I still love you."

Gladio has to turn away and busy himself so he doesn't see Prompto's reaction.

*

After Noct goes into the crystal, Prompto's dazed, as if he's sleepwalking. Or more cynically, stuck in a state of uncertainty as to whether he finished his mission or not. But when Ardyn rises from the dead, picking his hat up and turning to leave, he snaps his fingers and Prompto starts scurrying to follow after him.

Blind or not, Ignis' reflexes are excellent. He moves lightning fast to grab Prompto as he passes and tosses him down, using his own weight to pin him to the catwalk, with his arms held twisted behind his back.

"I'm so pleased you learned something from our time together," Ardyn says. His face is streaked with the daemonic black ooze leaking from his eyes, and the smile that stretches his mouth makes him look less delighted than enraged. "Well, I do wish you all joy of your errant clone."

Ignis says nothing, treating Ardyn as if he _is_ nothing, and after a moment Ardyn walks away, humming under his breath.

When his footfalls have died away completely, Ignis cocks his head and asks, "Gladio?"

"He's gone." Gladio sucks in a breath and then tosses his sword back into the armiger. It was useless against Ardyn, and all his training can't bring Noct back, but he doesn't have the time now to dwell on his failures. There will be plenty of nights for them to haunt him. "Fucking hell."

Ignis sits back slowly and loosens his grip on Prompto's arms. The light's dim, but as Gladio approaches he can see that Ignis is bleeding again. He probably tore his wounds open again in his desperation to keep Prompto from going off to be a minion of evil. Or whatever Ardyn had planned for him.

So now it's up to Gladio to get them out of this shithole and back to civilization. Sure, he can do that. He calls Biggs and Wedge, who've made contact with another mercenary band. They have an airship, and are willing to deliver everyone to Tenebrae in return for an introduction to Aranea. The only sticking point is whether to take the crystal along with them, but Ignis wins that heated argument. He says it's simply too dangerous, and that Noct isn't literally trapped inside the stone – doubtless the crystal was used by the gods to open up a portal. Noct could be anywhere, but they need to have faith in the gods that he's safe.

"Next god I see is going to get hell from me," Gladio tells him, but he lets Wedge give the command to move out.

The mercenaries have restraints on board, and Gladio doesn't let Ignis argue him down from making sure Prompto's hands are tied up so he can't cause any more damage, either with weapons from the armiger or Imperial shit activated with his barcode. Ignis is running a fever and is clammy with sweat, slumping down to sit with his back to the wall; as soon as the airship starts lumbering through the hazy Niflheim skies, Gladio asks if they can raise Aranea on the radio. He'll feel a lot more comfortable if she can arrange a medic to be available when they land.

The trip is estimated to take at least three hours, and Gladio appoints himself the chief entertainer. He sits Prompto down near Ignis and settles himself between them, taking the camera out of the armiger and powering it up.

There are 194 pictures on the current memory card. He knows Prompto's got more cards neatly filed away somewhere, but this batch starts off with some goofy shots of all of them in the Regalia, mugging for the camera (except for Ignis; he just eyed the camera with cool amusement). It's a good place to start. He doesn't want to get into heavy stuff right off the bat – Insomnia falling, Noct and the prophecy, the gods dicking everyone over. Altissia.

Even though Prompto tries to pretend he's not interested, Gladio can see that he's paying attention. He doesn't know what Ardyn did to Prompto: if his memories are there but buried, or if they were scooped out and replaced by lies. Gladio's never really understood how magic works, and Ardyn's had – apparently – centuries to figure out how to fuck shit up. But Gladio's a people person and he's read enough stories to be fairly good at telling them himself. Gladio starts by telling Prompto that he took most of the pictures, which is why he's not in more of them. But there are plenty of selfies, Prompto flashing wide grins at the camera with whoever he could grab. Lots of chocobos as well.

Gladio tells Prompto about the places in the pictures: after growing up in a walled city, Prompto is thirsty for wide-open landscapes, mountains, stone arches, the wide ocean. He explains that they'd been driving down to meet Luna, and that Noct had been collecting his ancestral weapons on the way. He tries to show Prompto what he'd meant to all of them: how he'd been equal parts cheerful optimism and stubborn loyal bravery.

"I'm a clone of my father," Prompto finally interrupts. "I look just like him when he was younger. That guy – " he points at the camera "– how do I know he's me?"

"If you spent any length of time in an Imperial military base," Ignis says, trying to be dispassionate but mostly sounding pained, "then perhaps _you_ can tell _us_. How many identical clones of yourself did you encounter? How many of them speak with an Insomnian accent, and had the same clothes and hairstyle?"

"I guess you used to be able to see, huh." Prompto tosses that out like it's no big deal, a breathtaking cruelty coming from him... or it would be, if he knew who he was. "You aren't that bad-looking in these pictures."

"Thank you," Ignis says evenly, as if oblivious to the implications of that.

Gladio wants to punch something, but he has to be the bigger man here. For Ignis' sake.

He clicks over to the next picture, Ignis and Prompto showing off a curry they'd made, goofy and proud, standing shoulder to shoulder, or at least as close to that as possible given their height difference. Ignis told Gladio that he was dating Prompto before they left Insomnia; Noct had been cool with it, no surprise there, but Gladio had to consider the security implications, all the ways their work might be jeopardized by two of his colleagues fucking.

True to their promises, they'd put their relationship on hold, not even so much as holding hands once on the whole trip, at least as far as Gladio knew. He still doesn't know how much that cost them; he's never asked. But after Ignis lost his sight, Gladio told Prompto the rules didn't matter. Ignis would never get to see Prompto again, it'd be cruel to deny him touch and comfort. Who cared if they slept in the same bed or showered together or whatever.

Gladio explains that to Prompto now. Ignis makes half-hearted embarrassed protests. He's a private person and probably hasn't ever said a lot about relationships or emotions out loud, but Prompto needs to have this stuff spelled out for him explicitly right now. The picture of Ignis driving and giving Prompto a faint smug smile was probably a declaration of love. Ignis caught staggering upright from a river, filthy from head to toe and glaring daggers at the camera... well, Gladio isn't even into guys and he can see that the way Ignis' wet clothes cling to his skin is downright pornographic. Like that statue of Titan rising from the earth that the Concerned Parents Association thought was inappropriate for children.

"I don't get it," Prompto says finally. He sounds exhausted.

"Ardyn captured you." Gladio is trying to sound matter-of-fact, but his own guilt rankles. He shouldn't have let his feelings keep him from doing his job properly and protecting Noct, and everyone. "You're Noct's best friend, he knew Noct would come to rescue you. And he knew turning you against Noct would hurt him."

"Ardyn most likely used magic to torture you," Ignis says. He's keeping his voice soft, but it doesn't take away the impact of the words. "You were missing for six days, but he's able to create the illusion of slowed-down time, so I have no idea how long it felt to you. He can also assume the appearance of another. He tricked me by disguising himself as Gladio, and he made Noct see him as you, and you as him."

"He's a half-daemonified immortal," Gladio adds. "We can't ever assume we understand his motives. He hates Noct. I think he's impatient for him to be strong enough to be a worthy opponent. But he doesn't care if the world goes dark and falls to the daemons."

He wants to ask Prompto what Ardyn had told him about Noct, Niflheim, the Scourge – all of it. What information Prompto had divulged to Ardyn. It'd be important intel... but getting Prompto back to normal has to be the priority. It's what Noct would want, and it's _not_ what would make Ardyn happy.

Gladio's got no idea where to even start, or how.

One step at a time. Pictures now, then getting Iggy fixed up, then Prompto, and after that figuring out how to help Noct save the world.

He clicks over to the next picture, and Prompto and Noct smirk up at him in a cheek-to-cheek selfie. He hopes it's a good omen.


	2. Chapter 2

In the tiny overcrowded Tenebrae hospital, as he and Gladio are watching over Ignis after surgery, Prompto blurts out, "I don't remember loving him."

Gladio had figured as much. He's glad Ignis is still knocked out from the drugs and didn't hear that confession, though. "You were happy, I can see why Ardyn wouldn't want you to have that. But part of you remembers," he adds, because Prompto looks so small and hurt, one knee pulled up and his arms wrapped around it, like he's trying to hug himself. "You're an excellent shot, but you still didn't hit Noct. Some part you knew you didn't want to do that."

Prompto snorts. "According to you, I shot my blind boyfriend. Is that better?"

Gladio's reply is instantaneous. "Yes." Prompto flinches. "Ignis will forgive you – probably already has. It'd be more complicated if you'd hurt Noct, trust me. Look... it doesn't matter if you grew up in Niflheim or Insomnia, you're an innately good person. And Ardyn couldn't change that about you, because he doesn't understand how you think."

Prompto is quiet for a while, mulling that over. Then he blows out a breath and says, "Dude, _I_ don't understand how I think. It's terrifying."

"What do you remember?" Gladio asks. He's curious and bored, but as soon as he asks he realizes maybe that's not something Prompto can or should get into without the assistance of a trained mental health professional. (After Ignis was rushed off to surgery, he asked the hospital if they had someone like that on staff, and got a referral to a woman in Altissia; not that helpful.) "You don't have to talk to me," he adds, just to make that clear, and then frowns as a thought strikes him. "Are you scared of us?"

His guts twist at the thought; he always treated Prompto like a kid brother, roughhousing and teasing, and Prompto gave as good as he got. He'd told Gladio once that as an only child with no cousins, he appreciated being taken under his wing ( _not your literal wing_ , Prompto had added, squirming and laughing as Gladio dropped his arm heavily across his shoulders. _Get off, you're crushing me_ ).

"Playing in the snow," Prompto says. "Like... that's pretty much all my whole childhood. There should be more there, though, right? School or – what else do kids do?" He shrugged. "I remember my dad, and I grew up looking just like he used to, which kind of sucks, because he's really old now and losing his hair? And kind of crazy." He bit his lip. "I'm scared of everyone. The only person I think I trust is Ardyn, but I don't know why. He's... sick, right?"

"He's got the scourge," Gladio agrees. "But he's not human, so it doesn't turn him completely into a daemon." He stretches his legs out, trying to look unthreatening. "He helped Noct out a bunch of times. Problem with him isn't that he's not trustworthy, it's that he's playing a long game and he's the only one who knows the rules. He needs Noct," he adds. "And he hates that, I guess. Maybe he resents that Noct can save the world and he can't? And that's why he kidnapped Noct's best friend and turned him against him." Plus Gladio figures Ardyn thought it'd be a funny prank to play. He doesn't say that, though.

Gladio has never been interested in magic much. By the time he started training, it'd been decided that Noct's Crownsguard wouldn't use magic in battle the way the Kingsglaive did. Regis thought it'd be too much of a strain on Noct, and Gladio agreed. How can you protect someone if they're loaning you their power in the first place? But since leaving Insomnia he's been kicking himself for not learning at least the fundamentals: how havens and potions work, what magitek is, just what the Lucis Caelums are capable of.

Ignis has studied magic and cosmogony, of course. When he wakes up, Gladio hopes he'll have some idea of how to revert Prompto back to normal.

Until then, all he can do is provide entertainment, he figures. On a whim he grabs Ignis' notebook, with all his notes about their trip so far. He hands it to Prompto; it's not an exciting read, but that makes it less likely to be a clever Insomnian forgery. There's nothing in it about murdering the Emperor or whatever other evils Prompto might have been led to believe. It has a diary including weather, care mileage, and menus, as well as a list of items bought and sold and notes on monsters and daemons.

Prompto devours every word, lingering over the pages.

Gladio watches the sun set out the window, even though it's still early afternoon, and answers Prompto's questions. He can't tell if he's being fooled by the wide, wounded blue eyes into feeding intel directly to the enemy or not. He's too tired to care. He just wants Prompto back, Ignis back. Noct back. Things to be like they were. Like they were supposed to be.

Ignis wakes up late in the evening. He's confused, then grief-stricken, and finally settles into sarcastic ire as the painkillers wear off. Prompto hasn't seen Ignis' temper unleashed since they rescued him in Gralea, and he's wide-eyed with surprise that bleeds into something like fondness.

He doesn't step up to take over nursing Ignis back to health, the way he did in Altissia, but when Gladio directs him to do stuff he's usually game. He reads to Ignis and spoon-feeds him, and Gladio steps up to help Iggy with all the embarrassing stuff like sponge baths and shaving.

They're kicked out of the hospital after two days, and Ignis insists on limping all by himself down through the throngs of people clustered around the train station and the city offices, and all the way to Aranea's camp. Gladio hovers and drives him nuts, but no matter how good with a cane Ignis is now, he still stumbles and falls on good days.

Prompto orbits around them, looking like he's caught on that he's supposed to be even more worried than Gladio is, but doesn't know what to do. Prompto's always good with encouragement and knows how to balance his heartfelt sincerity with humor – or he used to.

Still, Gladio thinks it's a good sign. He hopes that Ardyn didn't excise Prompto's empathy so much as redirect it, somehow persuading him that he cares more about some Niff scientist and Ardyn himself more than his best friends and boyfriend.

They arrive at camp, where they're renting bunks in a dilapidated barracks. Gladio makes Ignis take his medicine and lie down, and he's asleep in about two seconds. Gladio asks Prompto to watch over him, so if he wakes he won't be alone, and goes out to chat with Aranea.

He asks her what she knows about Ardyn and his powers, and what kind of torture and brainwashing Niflheim practiced. Her answers aren't that helpful – she doesn't know much aside from having watch Ardyn work on Ravus over the years – but she offers to take Prompto with her on a supply raid. She says one of her mercs has experience working with battle-trauma. Gladio makes sure she's aware of just how badly Prompto's compromised, but she's willing to risk him flipping out in return for him turning things on with his barcode tattoo.

Over the next week and a half he helps her empty a couple bases of their storepiles, and they even pick up a few new airships. Flush with that success, Aranea offers them free passage on an evacuation flight up to Lestallum.

"This is better than the last trip we took," Prompto says, jabbing Gladio with his elbow. "You kept me in handcuffs."

Gladio looks down at him and catches a cheeky grin. "And Iggy was going into shock from blood loss, yeah."

"Behave." Rows upon rows of metal benches have been bolted to the floor, and they're full of refugees; Ignis has one of the best seats, with his back to the wall, he's wrapped in two blankets to keep the chill off. There's not much room between him and the grandmother carrying two chickens in a basket, but he says, "Come sit with me."

Gladio gives Prompto a poke and points him over with his chin. "I'm going to check with the navigator. Keep an eye on him."

Prompto looks betrayed, but under Gladio's watchful eye he goes over. When Gladio comes back, Prompto's got Ignis' arm out of the sling and is getting him to do his hand exercises, encouraging Ignis to stretch each finger out and then fold it down.

The hotel's full up when they get there, of course, but after calling around Gladio finally finds an empty apartment owned by a friend of Holly's. It's a furnished one room studio and the bathroom is shared by all the residents on the floor, but the view from the wide balcony is spectacular.

Ignis' wounds are recovering well; Gladio and Prompto were given a pamphlet back in Tenebrae showing the kinds of exercises he needs to do to get back full range of motion on his arm and not walk with a limp. They alternate days doing rehab with him, even though he says it's entirely unnecessary.

Gladio thinks he looks terrible, not that he'd be ass enough to say it. Ignis is in less and less pain, but that means it's worry that increasingly pinches his expression now. He's got no interest in dressing properly, seemingly content to spend each day wearing loose exercise clothes that are easy to get on and off. Gladio hangs Ignis' fancy shirts and trousers on his pegs along the wall, but it's not like Ignis is reminded of them every time he seems them.

Aranea gave Ignis a pot of hair gel as a farewell present, telling him to cheer up and keep his hair up. He doesn't do either, even though the gel is kept on top of the dresser next to their toiletries basket. Out of Ignis' earshot, Gladio tells Prompto that he's not allowed to touch the gel.

Prompto raises both of his hands to show that he'd never dream of doing such a thing, but also to suggest that Gladio's being very weird over styling product.

Their whole living arrangement is like that, odd moments of tension or friction instead of laughter and roughhousing. 

Gladio keeps seeing Ignis catching himself about to say something to Prompto, or reach out to him. He feels the worst at the small telling silences where Prompto would normally try to cheer Ignis up or make a joke, and the times when Prompto doesn't register at all that Ignis needs him – when he's patting down the nightstand and table looking for his visor or his phone, or struggling to get dressed – and just... doesn't even register his distress, and the angry humiliation that wells up in its wake. Gladio's hard put not to get frustrated at Prompto for not caring. The thought's crossed his mind a few times that they could send Prompto back to go work with Aranea. Maybe that'd be better for all of them. Keep Prompto out of sight, and literally out of his mind.

But the kid's not malicious, and in his own way he's aware of the tense undercurrents that swirl around him. He's open to trying to figure out who he is. He likes looking at pictures on his camera when he thinks he's not being observed, and pulling random things out of the armiger.

He apparently asked Aranea if the armiger was some kind of magitek, and seemed to believe her that it wasn't. But Ignis told Gladio that Ardyn had had an armiger of his own, so being able to use it's not absolute proof that Prompto's Crownsguard and is using the King's magic.

Gladio's hopeful, though. He thinks he sees Prompto coming back, and if he does recover, then Iggy will, too. It's just a matter of time.


End file.
